


Make it better

by Toe



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, F/F, Sharing a Bed, don't know how graphic the violence is but let's tag to be safe, just lots of emotions all at once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toe/pseuds/Toe
Summary: Amata can't quite forgive the Lone Wanderer for killing her father, but with the Vault in chaos and even the rebels hesitant to trust her, she escapes to the wasteland to find her girlfriend again.





	Make it better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starlatine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlatine/gifts).



Amata took a deep breath and began recording. “I hope you’re doing well. Things, I-- ugh, shit.” Amata stopped the recording and buried her head in her hands. “Maddy, I’ll forgive you for everything if you can just swoop in like Grognak and whisk me away in your muscular arms,” she said to the dead mic.

She was being ridiculous. She didn’t have time to spend on the recording-- she needed to get out of the vault before anyone realized what she was doing, but the thought that these would be the first words Maddy heard from her in weeks made her stupid. She needed them to be perfect.

No, she wanted them to be perfect, but she needed them to be quick, factual, snappy. She started the recording again.“Things got worse after you left,” Amata told the mic. It was such a gross understatement that it might as well have been a lie, but she wasn’t choking on her words, at least. “The new Overseer is insane. If you’re listening, know that I’m out there in the wasteland looking for you. I can’t stay in the Vault any longer.”

She set the recording to broadcast on a loop. Things in the Vault were fractured enough that her broadcast might not be discovered for weeks. She hoped that was enough.

\--

It wasn’t long ago that Amata would have said nothing in the world could make her leave the Vault. She loved the community, loved knowing everyone by name, and her biggest dream was to see the place flourish with her leading the way forward as Overseer. It would have been hard enough to leave behind everything she loved even without her only other option being the Wasteland. She definitely didn’t want to join the savages who ate each other’s eyeballs and never bathed.

Then her father was murdered before her very eyes and Mack became an oppressive dictator and the rebels couldn’t agree on whether or not they trusted her-- after all, she’d often defend her father and Mack wasn’t so different. She couldn’t stand the friction, and her presence only caused more of it, rifts on rifts.

Even with all the chaos there now, leaving the Vault made her feel sick. Leaving meant admitting that things would never go back to the way they were before.

And of course, there was Maddy. It was hard to think about her anymore without remembering the night she left, being tied up in the chair, her father, Maddy in the firing stance, the steady aim of her pistol, the gunshot, the wave of terror down her spine, the inside of her dad’s skull. A drop of his blood had landed on the toe of her shoe and she still hadn’t gotten the stain out. The memory had become washed out with all the twisted nightmare versions she had experienced, but the heaviness in her chest remained. There had been times when Amata had hoped she’d never see Maddy’s face again.

\--

Amata all but held her breath in her first steps out of the Vault and into the blue midnight of the wasteland. She had run through all sorts of scenarios of what she might find outside, or of what monsters might assault her. She wanted to be on high alert so that no dangers could catch her off guard. Then, in all her vigilance, she made the mistake of surveying the sky.

Amata had seen plenty of pictures of the sky, she knew of the soaring expanse of blue, or the vibrant hues of the sunset, or the velvet, star-studded night. But still, somewhere in her mind, she had a hard time grasping that the sky might be farther away than the vault ceiling. She gaped at the sky for far too long, captivated by the beauty of the stars, then spun, marveling at how the sky stretched off to forever in every direction.

Her focus returned to the earth when she heard a snapping sound nearby. She dropped into a crouch and crept towards a boulder for cover as her eyes swept across her surroundings, but in the darkness, she couldn’t see anything.

She wondered if raiders were nocturnal.

When Amata decided that it was safe to move again, her steps felt lighter. It comforted her to know that there was beauty even in the horror of the wasteland, and she could see more as long as she went on.

\--

Amata settled down on the least moldy square of carpet in the half-destroyed house. Even though the sun was still out, she was exhausted, sweaty and covered in scratches from fighting off mole rats. Since it was too bright for her to relax, she fiddled with the radio on her pip-boy.

The host at Galaxy News Radio told a lot of stories about a heroic lone wanderer who had rescued people from captivity and taken down villains, someone who spread good everywhere she went. Then Three Dog mentioned that she was from Vault 101 and Amata knew for certain that the Lone Wanderer was Maddy.

Amata shut the radio off after hearing that she had found an orphan a new family. She was glad to know that Maddy was alive in spite of all the terrible things that could have happened to her in the wasteland, even more so since it meant she still had a goal, but she didn’t want to hear about what an angel Maddy was, at least not right then. Because how could someone who made the wasteland a better place have so thoroughly destroyed her life?

\--

The first wastelanders Amata saw were seated around a campfire, eating scraps of roasted meat, which seemed about as benign a situation as she was going to find. Wasteland domestic, almost. Even though she caught them with their guards down, she approached slowly, sending out psychic transmissions to say that she wasn’t a threat.

“Hi, excuse me,” Amata said once she was close. “Can you point me towards the nearest town?”

The wastelanders froze, but only for a moment. The one closest to her stood, his hand twitching towards his hip. “Megaton is just over that hill.”

“Thanks, and, uh, safe travels.” Amata wanted to ask for more information about Megaton, but she was getting a bad vibe from the two.

“Hold up,” said the woman who was still seated, her voice muffled by a mouthful of food. “We don’t just give away information for free. Hundred caps.”

Amata opened her mouth to negotiate-- she didn’t have any caps, but she’d be willing to part with some of her food and water if it meant leaving peacefully. Then she noticed the wastelander closer to her pulling out a gun.

Amata didn’t even think. She rushed towards the wastelander, sending an uppercut into his jaw followed by a right hook to his face before he had time to react. Something crunched under her fist and his gun thudded into the dust and the other wastelander cussed and the wastelander she had punched fell backwards and then she was sitting on his chest, sending her fists into his face again and again until he didn’t have a face anymore, just a mass of purple and red.

Eventually, Amata’s brain caught up to her and she grabbed the wastelander’s gun from the ground and aimed it at his friend. Amata stood and turned towards the other wastelander, who was brandishing her meat skewer as a weapon.

“I’m going to leave now. You’re going to forget you ever saw me and I won’t have to send your brain flying in twenty different directions,” Amata bluffed. She wasn’t ready to shoot anyone quite yet, but the wastelanders didn’t have to know that.

The wastelander’s gaze moved to her friend on the ground, and Amata knew she hadn’t quite sold her act. Amata gave a sick grin, licking some of the blood off her knuckles. “Make one move,” she taunted.

Then, the wastelander’s eyes found her vault jumpsuit. “Oh, shit. You’re that Lone Wanderer.” Without waiting for a response, she darted off, disappearing in seconds.

It took hours for Amata to get the taste of blood out of her mouth.

\--

If all the comic books she read taught Amata anything, it was that newcomers to a town could find information at the local tavern. Moriarty’s Saloon was just like those crusty illustrations, only it smelled worse.

Covered in blood that was mostly not her own, Amata felt she fit in at the saloon, which gave her the confidence to saunter over to the bar and grab a stool like it wasn’t her first time. She waved over the bartender. “Excuse me.”

“What can I get you, miss? Food? Drink?” the bartender asked. There was something wrong with his face and his voice, like he was sick, maybe.

Amata smiled. She was raised polite. “None of that, thanks. Actually, I’m looking for someone. Maddy?”

The bartender scowled. “Who’s asking?”

“I’m Amata. A friend of hers.”

“You do have that jumpsuit. And you didn’t yell at me for being a ghoul. Alright, I’ll tell you about her. But you better not touch one hair on her head, you hear? She’s one of the good ones.”

“Deal,” Amata said. She wasn’t quite able to digest what the bartender said, though. She had heard all about Maddy’s good deeds on the radio, but it was different to have a living being in front of her testifying to all the good Maddy had done while Amata had been locked in the vault, haunted by images of her friend as a remorseless monster. A bitterness stirred inside her.

But first things first. Survive, then confront her own emotions. Find Maddy, then confront her own emotions.

“She’s not in Megaton right now, but she’s got a house here. You stick around long enough and she’s bound to return,” the bartender said.

“Thanks.”

“Name’s Gob, by the way. Since you’re going to be waiting, can I get you anything? Food, drink?”

“Food would be nice. And maybe you could answer some more questions for me. Like, what’s a ghoul?”

\--

For the second night in a row, Amata fell asleep sitting against the locked door to Maddy’s house, but this was the first time she woke up to a dog licking her face.

Amata tried to pull back, but only managed to bump her skull against the corrugated metal of the house. “Ow. Back,” she whined, her voice weak with sleep.

“Dogmeat,” Maddy scolded.

Amata would know that voice anywhere, in a whisper or a shout. It was all she had been thinking about in recent weeks and it made her sick to her stomach.

Amata stood, wiping the dog spit from her face and combing her fingers through her hair. Her mind filled with the thousands of things she wanted to say and do now that Maddy was in front of her. “Uh. Hi.”

“Amata,” Maddy said. Her nose was red, like she was on the verge of tears. “You’re here.”

Maddy took a tentative half step forward, and for a moment, it seemed like she was going to hug Amata. Then she drew back, grabbing her elbow and folding in on herself

“Did you hear my broadcast?” Amata asked, trying to hide her disappointment. She desperately wanted to embrace Maddy, for both of them to need neither apologies or forgiveness.

“No,” Maddy said, and maybe that was for the best. “Move, let me get this door open.”

Amata followed Maddy into her house, but she could hardly tear her eyes away from the balding carpet by her feet to look around. She wished that she had come up with a plan on what to say, though she knew nothing she had come up with would have helped. Having Maddy in front of her again changed something, and everything she felt was amplified, tumult roaring in her head.

“I’m starving,” Maddy announced. “Want some macaroni?”

“Sure,” Amata agreed, too overwhelmed to say anything else. She took a seat on the couch and stared at her knees.

Maddy hummed to herself while she cooked, an old habit of hers whenever she was working with her hands. It reminded Amata of all the cozy times she had felt Maddy's body buzzing against her as she hummed, and it was a little easier to pretend that everything was alright.

Dogmeat wandered up and placed his head on the couch next to Amata’s legs. She smiled and scratched behind his ears. “So, who’s this guy?” Amata asked.

“Dogmeat? If you’re looking for a story, I’m afraid there isn’t one. We met when I was wandering in the wasteland and he’s perfect and that’s all there is to it.”

“He sure is,” Amata said. Dogmeat wagged his tail.

“So, hey,” Maddy said, “How much of Megaton have you seen?”

\--

“Your food,” Maddy said, ending her chattering about all the places she had been.

Amata took the bowl from her. “Thanks.”

“Your turn now. How have things been in the Vault?” Maddy asked, sitting beside her.

“Not great.” Amata took a large bite of greyish macaroni and chewed slowly. She didn't want to talk about it.

“Did it ever settle down after I left? Who’s the new Overseer?” Maddy asked with no remorse in her voice, only curiosity, like thoughts of the old Overseer didn’t bother her.

"You know the state you left the Vault in," Amata accused.

"That's why I'm asking," Maddy said. Her voice was calm, but she was grabbing her elbow again, so tightly the blood left her knuckles.

“It never did,” Amata said with a heavy sigh. “Officer Mack’s the new Overseer, and I think he’s the only one who’s happy about it. There were a lot of fights. Deaths.”

Maddy didn’t ask about the deaths.

\--

“How long are you planning on staying here?” Maddy asked.

“I haven’t given it much thought,” Amata confessed. “First things first, right?”

“I ask because you can stay forever if you want, but if you’re going to be staying forever, we might want to do something about the bed situation. This is my only one.” She lightly kicked the bed, a tiny, twin-sized thing.

"We've shared smaller," Amata said, though she didn't think beds could get smaller without being cribs. The way Maddy offered to let her stay forever like there weren't any elephants in the room unsettled her, but there was nothing more enticing than the thought of sleeping next to her again for one night.

“Mm. Come here, dummy.” Maddy pressed herself against the wall, opening her arms for Amata.

Amata slid into the bed and Maddy wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her close. “Night, Maddy.”

Maddy pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. “Good night.”

Within minutes, Amata felt herself drifting off, exhausted after everything she had been through that week and comfortable with Maddy’s breath on her neck.

“Hey,” Maddy whispered.

Amata’s eyes fluttered open. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here. I’ve needed a home, lately.”

\--

“Told you you wouldn’t want to come along,” Maddy said. She had been standing ankle-deep in a puddle of water for nearly an hour and she and Amata had run out of small talk.

“You picked the most boring job on purpose,” Amata accused. She thought she had been willing to overlook it, had rationalized to herself that Maddy was only protecting her out of habit, the way she had even back when they were preteens and the Tunnel Snakes pulled her pigtails, or because she had more experience, but even though all of that might have been true, Amata still didn’t want to be protected. She didn't want to feel indebted to Maddy, not with all the other ways she felt toward Maddy. And she knew she could protect herself. She remembered the way that wastelander’s face had caved beneath her fists, the tang of metal on the back of her tongue, and she knew she could do that again if she had to.

Maddy scratched her cheek. “That wasn’t my only criteria.”

"Right. You whine at me the whole way to Moira’s about how dangerous a trip out of town would be and you expect me to believe it’s a coincidence when we end up staying in town?”

“Yeah, well, I had my own reasons for wanting to stay in town.” Maddy stared down at the puddle, where she was making ripples by tapping her feet. A few deep breaths passed before she continued. “I didn’t want to travel far because I’m going to be leaving again soon. There’s an essential component that I have to fetch for my dad’s project. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“Oh.” Amata’s anger dissipated, lost in apprehension at the thought of everything changing again so soon.

“You can still stay at my house, though.”

Amata’s anger was back. “Or I could go with you. I might not have been here as long as you have, but I can handle myself.”

“Maybe,” Maddy said, and they both knew it was a lie.

Amata focused on deep breathing, in and out until she had sheathed her anger. “How long do you have to stand in that puddle, anyway?”

“I think I’m good, actually; I am starting to feel the nausea,” Maddy said, consulting the geiger counter on her pip-boy.

“That cannot be healthy for you.”

Maddy shook the water from her boots, making little splashes as she emerged. “Eh. I monitored it closely and I’ve got plenty of rad-away. Safest radiation poisoning you can get.”

Amata laughed. “Anything in the name of science, I guess.”

\--

“Can we talk about how you’re leaving?” Amata asked abruptly. She was lying on the couch while Maddy was spread out like a starfish on the floor, both relaxing and listening to the radio, and this chaotic bitterness had been building within her, fueled by the fragile peace of the scene.

This fight had been a long time coming. Ever since Maddy had left the Vault, all the nightmares and loneliness had been taking their toll and Amata needed someone to take the blame.

“What about it?”

“How you expect me to stay here and play house while you’re seeing the world and risking your life.”

Maddy pulled herself up, sitting cross-legged. She frowned at Amata for a few seconds, opened her mouth as though she had something to say, changed her mind, stood, and disappeared into the kitchen area, reappearing after a brief but worrisome ruckus, her arms filled with empty bottles. “You want to break stuff?” she asked.

“More than you know.” Amata helped Maddy lower all the bottles onto the table and the floor. “Why do you have so many?”

Maddy shrugged. “They just pile up. Let’s empty a couple more, too. I think I have some wine.”

Amata hefted a bottle in her hand while Maddy went back to the fridge, running her finger across the label.

“Go ahead, toss it at the wall,” Maddy encouraged. She already had a bottle of wine open and she took a long swig from it. “I’ve got a cleaning robot to take care of this stuff.”

That was all the encouragement Amata needed. With all her might, she hurled it at the wall and let the sound of the shattering wash over her. It wasn’t quite breaking something with her fists, but it would do.

Amata and Maddy ended up seated on the floor with their backs against the couch, taking turns drinking wine and smashing bottles.

“I really needed to break something,” Maddy said, her voice sounding softer than usual amidst the crashing of glass. “My dad died, you know. Killed because he wanted to make this world a better place.”

Amata said nothing. She hurled another bottle at the wall.

“I’m sorry about your dad, by the way. And not just because--”

“It’s fine,” Amata said, and she was surprised at how much she meant it. “You did what you had to.”

“It was like the whole wasteland was only empty anymore. And then you showed up.” Maddy finished off the wine and threw the bottle at the wall, creating a spectacular crash. “It’s selfish, but I don’t want to lose you. Please don’t come with me.” She stared at Amata with pleading eyes, her forehead creased with worry.

Amata smiled gently. The wine danced in her veins, enough to make her fingertips tingle as she grabbed Maddy’s chin and pulled her in to tenderly kiss her forehead, then her lips. Maddy shifted, moving her arm to the seat of the couch to lean forward for more, but Amata pulled away.

“I’m not going with you,” Amata said. “I can’t leave the Vault as it is. I need to help them.”

Maddy settled for resting her head on Amata’s shoulder. She grabbed Amata's hand and threaded their fingers together. “You did always belong there.”

“Do you think you’ll ever come back?” Amata asked.

“Nothing could keep me away.”

**Author's Note:**

> happy yuletide, starlatine :) thanks for writing so many inspiring prompts!


End file.
